Several Months Later (4 BBY)

Ahch-To Island - Unknown Regions; Jarik POV...

"Alright, this looks like a good catch," I said, reading the information I managed to dig up.

"What is it?" Ahsoka asks curiously.

"An Imperial convoy is scheduled to be transporting a look of supplies on Lothal. Ranging from tools, weapons, medical supplies, etc. Probably just to restock another outpost," I theorized. She looks over my shoulder at the report and nods in agreement.

"Yeah that does look good. The defensive measures put in place seem manageable enough. I'll give the Spectres a call about it," she says, walking to the other side of the hut and opening a small cabinet, pulling out our Fulcrum comlink. She presses a button on the side that will conceal her identity with a hooded figure and scrambled voice, then sends out the call. She lays the communicator back down on the table and plops into her seat, now waiting for them to pick up.

"The waiting game," I remarked.

Just then the door burst open, startling us greatly and almost making me leap out of my seat. We both calmed down upon seeing the reason and eyed the culprit with an exasperated look.

"Mara, may we ask why you are slamming the door open?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"I've been checking the calendar, and we're scheduled to have another trip on Berk today!" she said eagerly, not at all sorry for scaring the kriff out of us.

"We are?" I asked in surprise, checking the date. "Oh yeah, we are."

"Did you really forget?" Mara deadpanned in disapproval.

"I didn't, but we've been busy with Fulcrum work lately." Ahsoka told her. The comlink started to beep, signaling that Hera had gotten our message and was ready to talk to us... well 'Fulcrum' really.

"After we take this call, we'll get ready for our trip Mara. That sound good?" she said.

"Alright!" she quickly agreed, rushing out the door, slamming it again. I rolled my eyes.

Ahsoka then reached over and accepted the transmission. A hologram of Hera Syndulla, who was a green colored Twi'lek female showed up, and she looked in Ahsoka's direction. Of course, all she'd be seeing is a cloaked hologram with a hidden face.

"This is Spectre-2 to Fulcrum. Receiving your transmission," she says.

"Acknowledged Spectre-2. New information on the Imperials has just popped up..." Ahsoka began, outlining the details of the Imperial convoy, from the timing, to the route, and gave our advice on the Empire's defenses...

(Fun fact: this leads to the start of the 'Out of Darkness' episode.)


Isle of Berk, Ahch-To; Hiccup POV...

You know, a good friend of mine likes to call me out for my love or narrating. And she's right, so I'll happily start this off.

'This, is Berk. It's twelve days North of hopeless, and a few degrees South of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of misery.'

The whole village I live in is on a cliff ledge, held up. Right now it's the middle of the night, where things are very peaceful at the moment, and I'm happily sound asleep. So I'll continue narrating in my head.

'My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but every single building is new. We have fishing, and hunting and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests. You see most places have mice or mosquitos. We have...'

I'm jolted awake by the sound of a commotion outside, and the house shakes slightly from the force of a nearby explosion of some sort. Knowing the drill, I immediately scramble out of bed and pull on my fur vest and boots, rushing down the stairs. Dad is already gone of course, so it's up to me to get my fishbone body over to the forge. I yank the door open to see Vikings running across the grass, and then a Monstrous Nightmare flies up. It whips its head to glare at me, and unleashes a massive stream of fire. I quickly slam the door shut, eyes shut tight as the fire flows through the cracks in the door before settling back down. I open my eyes in shock at how close I was to being burned.

"...dragons," I breathe out, finishing my in-head narration.

Peeking out the door and noticing the coast is clear, I quickly rush out and down the field of chaos. A quick glance behind me shows the door smoldering and about to fall off its hinges, which means a new one! Yay! All around me, everyone is yelling and shouting, rushing around and waving their weapons at the attacking dragons. Several houses were already lit aflame, and I could see some of our animals being carried off as well. What a place we live in.

'Most people, would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have... stubbornness issues.'

That's the understatement of history no doubt, but hey. I'm a sarcastic kind of guy. I quickly rush through the streets with prqacticed ease on my way to the forge, ducking and weaving through several Vikings and blasts of fire.

'My name's Hiccup. Great name I know, but it's not the worst! Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.'

I glance behind me to watch a Gronckle fly by, one of my neighbor's in its mouth. He slams on the Gronckle's head repeatedly with a mace, and the dragon eventually tosses him aside, not finding him worth the effort. An explosion behind me sends me flying to the ground, where a burly Vikings lands on top of me, waving his axe in my face.

"ARGGGGHHHH!" he yelled, before his face instantly brightened up, almost insane-like. "Mornin'!"

He said it like it was any casual day, completely disregarding the fact that we're under attack from giant, firebreathing reptiles. Yeah, that's how used to this kind of stuff we are. Getting to my feet, I continued on my way, running down a wooden bridge as burly Vikings passed by me.

'Meet the neighbors. Hoark the Haggard...'

"What are you doing out!?"

'...Burnthair the Broad...'

"Get inside!"

'...Phlegma the Fierce...'

"Get back inside!"

'...Ack...'

I pass by Ack, who is leaning against his axe propped up by an arm, nonchalantly picking at his ear while everything around him continues to explode into chaos.

'Yup, just Ack.'

As you can see, I'm a very well received guy in this village, everybody knows me quite well. And in case you were gullible, I was being sarcastic. I continue on my way, glancing to the side and completely ignoring what was in front of me. Because of this I didn't see that stream of fire that would have torched me had someone's hand not shot out and yanked me from the ground. I caught a glimpse of my rescuer and grimaced uncomfortably, noting that the chief certainly wasn't in a gaming mood. Even less then usual, which is very impressive.

"Hiccup?! What is he doing out-" he starts to say, rambling accusingly to the crowd before deciding to focus his attention on me instead. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT?! Get inside!" he exclaims, tossing me back to the ground not to gently, and I stumble away, continuing my run for the forge.

'That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. Do I believe it?'

Stoick grabs a large wooden cart and hurls it without any effort whatsoever, knocking the strafing dragon out of the sky.

'Yes I do.'

Massive flaming braziers are raised on poles, lighting up the night sky... and revealing swirling dragons of all types as I pass by. Finally, I cross an open plaza and duck into an open building with a tall chimney, which is the forge. I cross behind a counter, where a peg-legged, one-armed hulk of a Blacksmith reshapes blades with a hammer and tongs appendage.

"Ah! Nice of you to join the party. I thought you'd been carried off!"

I don a leather apron and start to put away his scattered appendages. He really can't clean up after himself at all.

"Who me? Nah, come on! I'm way too muscular for their taste!" I comment sarcastically, grimacing as I lifted up his mace hand before managing to set it on the shelf, brushing myself off.

"They wouldn't know what to do with all this!" I strike a bodybuilder pose.

"They need toothpicks, don't they?" he easily retorts.

I immediately get to work, knowing the drill, and start transferring bent and chipped weapons to the forge as Vikings crowd the counter for replacements.

'The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well...littler.'

A quick glance outside has me noticing the chief running down a walkway with several Vikings, and a dragon strafes the rooftops of nearby houses, setting them all aflame in an instant. The fire spreads like a plague.

'See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.'

"FIRE!" a viking yells out. That's the cue for the fire brigade to begin their job, and charge through the plaza. Four teenagers, tugging a large wooden cask on wheels. From it, they fill buckets of water to douse the flames. One among them is a cute, energetic Viking girl, who I've had a crush on for a long time. I lean out of the stall to watch her, a dreamy smile on my face.

'Oh and that's Fishlegs, Snotlout. The twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut.'

Fishlegs and Snotlout grab their own buckets and rush for a rather large fire, while the twins continue to fighter over one bucket, tugging on it angrily. The fact that they can still fight each other when everyone's lives are in danger is absolutely ridiculous. Then my crush moves forwards, and my eyes are only on her again.

'And...Astrid.'

Astrid tosses a bucket of water on a large burst of flames to put it out, and then turns around. Another explosion immediately erupts behind her, framing her in a epic ball of fire. The others join her, looking awesome and heroic, adding another pang of longing streaming through my mind.

'Oh their job is so much cooler.'

I try to stealthily join them as they pass, thinking this could be my moment for recognition, but Gobber grabs my shirt with his hook and hoists me back inside before I could sneak away.

"Ah, come on. Let me out, please. I need to make my mark!" I plead desperately as he sets me down.

"Oh, you've made plenty of marks!" he quickly agrees, although for a different reason. "All in the wrong places!" he says, poking me in the chest accusingly with each pronunciation.

"Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon! My life will get infinitely better. I might even get a date," I tell him, arguing my case.

He starts counting out numerous issues on his hand in response. "You can't lift a hammer. You can't swing an axe..."

Gobber grabs a bola as an example.

"...you can't even throw one of these!"

A Viking runs by and nabs it out of Gobber's hand, hurling it at a dive-bombing Gronkle. The bola binds its legs, sending it into a heavy crash.

I admittedly concede without hesitation. "Okay fine, but..."

I rush to the back corner of the stall and present a bizarre, wheel barrow-like contraption. It was a newer invention I had been working on for some time, that could shoot a bola without ever needing to throw it. I had actually gotten the idea from some of the things my friend and her family have on their strange flying ship, which I will explain later.

"...this will throw it for me!"

I pat my hand on the top of the hinged lid of the device, which I had proudly called the Mangler. Unfortunately, I accidentally set it off, and an arm springs up, equipped with twin bows. They prematurely launch a bola, narrowly missing Gobber who ducks at the last moment, dodging only through years of experience with my inventions. Unfortunately the people behind him aren't as lucky, and the bola sails by, taking out a Viking at the counter.

"Arggh!" he cries out, and I flinch in embarrassment as Gobber whirls around and advances on me.

"See, now this right here is what I'm talking about!" he exclaims, pointing at me accusingly as his point gets proven right.

Mild calibration issue..." I mumble as an excuse.

"Hiccup," he says sternly, cutting me off. "If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all..."

Gobber gestures in my general direction, a rather pathetic look on his face.

"...this."

"But... you just pointed to all of me," I say irritably in admonishment and protest.

"Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you!" he says happily in confirmation.

"Ohhhh..." I start threateningly with narrowed eyes.

"Ohhhhh, yes!" he replies, mimicking me.

"You, sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... Vikingness contained. There will be consequences!" I exclaim threatening, waving my hand around to get my point across.

Unfortunately the look he gives me shows that he is not impressed. Gobber picks a sword up off of the rack and tosses it to me. It takes everything I have not to fall or drop the massive sword, holding it just barely with both arms.

"I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now," he orders.

I take it begrudgingly and stumble over towards the grinding wheel, heaving it up and slamming it down on the wheel, holding it in place. Sparks fly as it starts to sharpen, and I start to longingly fantasize possible ways of recognition and respect from the village.

'One day I'll get out there. Because killing a dragon is everything around here. A Nadder head is sure to get me at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend. A Zippelback? Exotic, exciting. Two heads, twice the status. And then there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.'

A sudden moaning sound starts to sound in the air, turning into a high-pitched shrieking sound that everyone has come to know and fear. I look up from the grinding wheel, reacting to the sound as everyone else has, looking out the stall window.

'But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the...'

"NIGHT FURY!" someone screams.

"GET DOWN!" another yells, and everyone ducks behind their shields no matter where they were, and the shriek reaches its climax. The large watchtower that holds our catapult is suddenly hit by a powerful plasma blast of purple energy, completely obliterating it in one strike. The large pieces all tumble down the side in flames, and I can hear the chief scream for those on it to jump.

'This thing never steals food, never shows itself and... never misses.'

The Night Fury fires another plasma blast at what remained of the watchtower, erasing it completely from existence. I look outside at all the carnage before gaining a look of determination on my face. This is my big moment.

'No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why I'm gonna be the first.'

Looking back inside, I see Gobber trading his hammer for an axe, and he looks up at me.

Man the fort, Hiccup, they need me out there!" he exclaims.

He starts to head outside before suddenly pausing. He turns back toward me with a threatening glare.

"Stay. Put. There," he says sternly, as if I were a dog and I eye him incredulously. He simply shrugs in response. "You know what I mean.

Gobber charges into the fray, hollering. Once he's gone, a smirk comes on my face as I realize I have an opportunity to take down a dragon. I know exactly what Gobber means, but it doesn't mean I have to listen to him. Moments later my apron is thrown to the side to be replaced with my vest, and I'm slamming the Mangler out of the forge, pushing my wheeled contraption through a wall of clustered Vikings. I weave through the ongoing mayhem, as fast as my legs can go.

"Hiccup, where are you going!?"

"Come back here!

"I know. Be right back!" I yell in response, rushing for the top of the village as fast as I could. Only a couple of minutes later I'm standing on a high cliff near the outskirts of the village, overlooking the smoking catapult, droping the handles to the ground. I crank several levers, unfolding and then cocking the bowed arms of the Mangler with practiced ease. I drop a bola onto a chamber and then pivot the weapon on a gimbal head toward the dark sky. I listen intently, narrowing my gaze through the scope with a hand just above the trigger.

"Come on, gimme something to shoot at, gimme something to shoot at," I whisper to myself.

I then hear the sound of wing beats approaching... and turn my aim to the defense tower. Whatever it is closes in for the final strike, completely camouflaged in the night. I grin eagerly, not recognizing the figure. I couldn't see it, but several starts were being blocked out at random places, a black shape the cause. It had to be the Night Fury!

Then the sound of the dragon's signature screech sounds once again, and I take aim at it is best as possible. Then out of nowhere, a purple plasma blast slams into the catapult tower, and the tower topples. The blast of fire illuminates the dragon for a split second. Acting instinctively in response, I pull the trigger. The flexed arms snap forward, springing the weapon off the ground, and the recoil sends me falling on my back. The bola disappears into the sky, followed by a whack and a shrill screech. I look up, a stunned look of shock and disbelief on my face as I see it fall through the sky, landing just by Raven Point. Huh, that's a popular place for crash landings huh? Then the realization sinks in.

"Oh I hit it! Yes, I hit it!" I cheered happily, throwing my arms into the air happily. "Did anybody see that?!"

Behind me, the loud sound of wood and mechanical parts being smashed suddenly gets my attention, and I turn around with dread to see a Monstrous Nightmare climb the side of the cliff, glaring down at me with a snarl. Typical.

"Except for you," I muttered.

The Nightmare roared and snapped it's jaws at me, and I wasted no time in running away as fast as possible, screaming in terror. I rushed back down to the village, the dragon hot on my tail and snapping its mouth inches away from me. Then it begins to shoot fire as I enter a street in the village. Vikings scatter as I wildly dodge a near fatal blast. The Nightmare's sticky, Napalm-like fire splashes up onto buildings, setting them alight. I quickly duck behind the last standing brazier, the only shelter available, and shut my eyes tightly as the Nightmare blasts it, spraying fire all around me. Once it stops, I peer around the smoldering post warily, finding no sign of it. Then a snarl right next to my back has me frozen in terror as I realize that I'm about to die.

Suddenly, Stoick leaps between us, tackling the Nightmare to the ground. He gets back up and straightens out his helmet, facing the dragon without any sign of fear. The Nightmare tries to shoot a stream of fire, but the only thing that comes out is a small amount of liquid fire and smoke, barely a danger. It's pupils go wide in nervousness as it realizes the same thing the chief does.

"You're all out," he states calmly. With a war cry, he rushes forwards and smashes the Nightmare repeatedly in the face, driving it away. It takes to the air and disappears. Winded, Stoick turns to look down at me, and I know I'm in trouble.

'Oh, and there's one more thing you need to know...'

The burnt brazier pole collapses, sending the massive iron basket crashing. It bounces down the hill, destroying everything as it goes and scattering the Vikings who were holding down netted Nadders. I wince every time someone yelps in pain, or another structure is destroyed by the pole. The freed dragons escape... with several of our sheep in tow.

"Sorry, dad," I manage to say nervously, feeling the piercing glare of his eyes on my back. Yeah, the biggest, most powerful Viking in this village is father to the smallest, and weakest Viking in the village. Oh the irony.

The escaped Nadders fly past with sheep in their clutches. The raid is over, and the dragons have clearly won. Everyone gathers around us, murmuring to each other and eyeing me with scathing glares as I let out a sigh. Here we go again...

"Okay, but I hit a Night Fury," I quickly add in, hoping that he'll hear that. He doesn't.

My dad immediately grabs me by the back scruff of his collar and hauls me away roughly, fuming with embarrassment. What's even worse is that he's silent, which is more terrifying than him screaming. I desperately try to explain and get him to see sense.

"It's not like the last few times, Dad. I mean I really actually hit it! You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot. It went down, just off Raven Point. Let's get a search party out there, before it-"

"STOP!" he yells, cutting me off, and I wince harshly in response. Seeing this he calmls down slightly but still glares angrily at me. "Just...stop. Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter's almost here and I have an entire village to feed!"

I look around to see all eyes are on me as usual.

"Between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't ya think?" I ask sarcastically, and a few of the... wider Vikings mutter self-consciously.

"This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" Dad exclaims in exasperation and annoyance."Why can't you follow the simplest orders?

"I can't stop myself! I see a dragon and I have to just... kill it, you know? It's who I am, Dad!" I protest.

He sighs, holding his head before looking back down at me. "You are many things, Hiccup. But a dragon killer is not one of them."

I look down dejectedly, a little hurt by that comment more than any insult that anyone in the village could call me. All I want is to impress him, but it never happens.

"Get back to the house. Make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up." Dad lumbers off in the opposite direction, and Gobber leads me through the all too familiar walk of shame. They pass the teen fire brigade as they snicker.

"Quite the performance." Tuffnut says with a grin.

"I've never seen anyone mess up that badly. That helped!" Snotlout says sarcastically in a mocking manner, jeering at me.

"Even Mara and her family's weird magic stuffisn't as impressive as that!" Ruffnut adds, giving her brother a high five.

"Thank you, thank you. I was trying, so..." I reply half-heartedly, brushing off their comments with practice, although I avoid Astrid's glare. They even had the guts to badmouth Mara with me as an example, although if she would here they wouldn't dare. Sighing, I walk away from the village with Gobber following and head up toward my house, standing prominently on the hill above all the others.

Oh yeah, Mara is that friend of mine I mentioned earlier.

"I really did hit one."

"Sure, Hiccup." Gobber replies, only half into the conversation.

"He never listens." I add to the list of complaints.

"Well, it runs in the family," he says nonchalantly once again. Thank you Gobber.

"And when he does, it's always with this... disappointed scowl. Like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich," I add, turning around at the door and developing a fierce scowl, mimicking my Dad. "Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here. This is a talking fish bone!" I say, trailing off dejectedly at the end.

Gobber shakes his head. "Look, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like. It's what's inside that he can't stand!"

I take a few moments to stare at him incredulously, with a 'what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you-face' on.

"Thank you, for summing that up," I replied sarcastically. Putting my hand on the door.

Look, the point is, stop trying so hard to be something you're not. At least you've got a good friend in Mara. Her parents seem to like you as well," he adds in.

I pause, considering his words, feeling a little better at the reminder of the Jedi family. Ever since day one, none of them have ever treated me different just for being different than the rest of the tribe, which has been so wonderful. even still, that doesn't get rid of the fact that I'm an outcast in my own village, being the chief's son no less.

"I really love the three of them a lot but... I just want to be one of you guys," I finally say sadly, pushing the door open and slumping inside. Gobber eyes me sympathetically as I enter the door, closing it quietly behind me. Once that's done though, I consider what to do before remembering the Night Fury. I know I hit it, and I'm going to find it and make everyone proud! Mara, Ahsoka and Jarik might not like the idea of killing dragons, but they'll support and stick by my side to help me like true friends! They've never turned me away for any reason.

With my mind made up, I rush out the back door after getting my journal and knife, headed for the woods.


3rd person POV...

A noisy din of loud, protesting voices leads to Stoick, glowering in the firelight as he stares down at the large map on the table surrounded by his men. He looks up, ready to propose another raid again.

"Either we finish them or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home!" he says, slamming his blade into the map spread out on the table. The knife pierces the middle of an uncharted corner which is swirling with painted sea monsters and dragons. Those are unexplored waters, which is where the nest has remained hidden all these years.

"One more search. Before the ice sets in," he proposes determinedly.

"Those ships never come back," someone points out.

"Couldn't we uh... get some help from the Jedi with their magic sensing powers?" one asks meekly.

Stoick sighs. "We can't expect to rely on them, and they're too busy with their own fight against their enemies! We have to handle this ourselves, and we have to succeed!" he says, standing up straight. "We're Vikings. It's an occupational hazard. Now who's with me?"

Stoick throws up his fist, but no one follows. The crowds shifts in restless silence with head scratches, and averted eyes as Stoick sweeps his gaze around the room.

"Today's not good for me," someone mutters.

"I've gotta do my axe returns," another says as an excuse.

Exasperated, Stoick pulls his last card out. He doesn't take any aort of joy or pleasure out of it, but it has to be done. "Alright. Those who stay will look after Hiccup."

Hands immediately shoot into the air, volunteers from every single Viking in the room. There were even enthusiastic murmurs of prepping and packing filling the chatter within the room.

"To the ships!" some cried out.

"I'm with you Stoick!" another exclaims eagerly.

Stoick nods in satisfaction. "That's more like it."

The Vikings rush for the door, leaving Gobber and Stoick alone. Gobber gulps back the contents of his tankard attachment and scrapes back the bench, while Stoick paces around the hall. He's never enjoyed having to use Hiccup as a threat to get people to go on dragon raids, and finds it even a little dishonorable. They're Vikings, and things like that should not be proper for motivation! However it's necessary in order to finally put an end to their dragon problem.

"I'll pack my undies." Gobber says.

"No, I need you to stay and train some new recruits," he immediately replies.

Gobber sighs in response. "Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Hiccup can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to himself...what could possibly go wrong?" he says sarcastically.

Stoick sinks onto the bench beside Gobber, his brow burdened and lets out an exhausted sigh.

"What am I going to do with him Gobber?" he asks, showing a vulnerability that few rarely see.

"Put him in training with the others," his friend suggests.

Stoick shakes his head, not thinking he actually meant it. "No, I'm serious."

"So am I." Gobber retorts sternly, and Stoick turns to him with a glare on his face.

"He'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage!" he exclaims.

"Oh, you don't know that."

"I do know that, actually."

"No, you don't."

"No, actually I do."

"No you don't!" Gobber stresses. "Take Mara for example! She's two years younger than Hiccup yet can still kick even Astrid's butt!"

"They don't count, they're Jedi! With their insane Force powers, so just listen! You know what Hiccup's like. From the time he could crawl he's been...different. He doesn't listen. Has the attention span of a sparrow. I take him fishing and he goes hunting for... for trolls!" Stoick exclaims in bewilderment.

Gobber whips around to face him. "Trolls exist! They steal your socks. But only the left ones. What's with that?"

"When I was a boy..." Stoick starts to say, and Gobber rolls his eyes.

"Oh here we go," he says in exasperation, having heard this story dozens of times.

"My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him. And you know what happened?" Stoick asked rhetorically.

"You got a headache," Gobber replies dryly.

"That rock split in two," Stoick replies, ignoring Gobber's answer."It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas! Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become."

He sits back down on the bench beside Gobber with a troubled expression. "Hiccup is not that boy."

"You can't stop him, Stoick. You can only prepare him." At Stoick's disbelieving look, Gobber continues. "Look, I know it seems hopeless. But the truth is you won't always be around to protect him. He's going to get out there again. He's probably out there now!"

Stoick looks thoughtful, hearing Gobber's words and taking them into account as he makes a decision. The door suddenly burst open as a Viking rushes inside.

"Chief!" he calls out.

"What is it?" Stoick asks, settling into the role of a leader as the Viking stops before him.

"The Jedi-Shan family is back," he reports.

Stoick nods in understanding. "Alright. Thank you for informing me. I'll meet them at the docks."